


The Unexpected Revelation In The Morning

by afteriwake



Series: Anything Can Happen [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock wakes up to an empty bed, and upon going out into the kitchen he hears someone singing in one of the most beautiful voices he has ever heard. He is very surprised to learn that it is Molly who has quite the angelic voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unexpected Revelation In The Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I really do love **imagineyourotp** over at Tumblr. I have a few prompts for this series, too. The one I answered for this fic is "Imagine Person A of your OTP is an excellent singer, but hides it for some reason by singing off-key. One day, Person B walks in on Person A singing in the most beautiful voice Person B has ever heard."

He worried about her. It had been four weeks since she was released from the hospital and she was nearing the end of the time her employers would give her off, and she still wasn't willing to pick up a knife. She probably wouldn't pick up a scalpel without her hand shaking as well, and he knew she hated it. She was not sleeping well and her appetite had decreased. He knew she was putting on a brave face so he wouldn't worry, but she seemed depressed and dejected, and he had no clue how to help her.

He had gotten used to her home in the short time he had been there. They talked about changes to make to 221B Baker street, about bringing over more of her things and moving some of his around or donating them to charity. He wanted it to be her home just as much as this place was. He hoped that, eventually, she would just completely move in with him and not have another residence. But that all depended on when she felt comfortable enough to go back home. For now he was glad they had this place to stay.

This morning he woke up to an empty bed. He could smell coffee coming from the kitchen, and it smelled very enticing. He wanted to linger in bed a few more minutes, even if he was alone, because they had stayed up late talking. He had gotten her to talk about how she was feeling a bit more, and he had been glad for it. He had made an effort to stay up until she was done talking and starting to fall asleep. He had thought perhaps she might sleep in more but he had not been that lucky.

He finally roused himself from bed and made his way to her kitchen, yawning as he did. And then he heard singing. He stopped in his tracks, mesmerized. He would admit that since he began living with Molly he had heard more modern music than the classical and opera he preferred, and while most of it was grating on the ears this particular song was not. Whoever was performing had the most brilliant voice he had heard in a long time outside of classically trained opera singers. He made his way slowly out towards the kitchen and then once again stopped, his jaw hanging open slightly. It was _Molly_ singing so beautifully. Every time he had heard her sing along with songs on the radio it had been just slightly off-key, not enough to be jarring but just enough to notice. But this...this was not the case this time.

The song was incredibly sad sounding, and as he listened to her sing he realized that she was singing with all her heart. The chorus of the song seemed to be asking an important question, as to whether the person the singer was in love with would love them when they were older and not quite as attractive as they had been before. He didn't want to interrupt her, but he wanted to know if she was asking the same question the singer was asking. He cleared his throat slightly and she jumped and turned around. “Sherlock! I woke you up. Oh my God, I'm so sorry.”

“It's all right,” he said, shaking his head. “I got more than enough rest.”

“So it wasn't my singing?” she asked.

“No. You have quite a beautiful voice. Why don't you sing that way more often?”

She blushed slightly and looked down. “When I was growing up I sang horribly. So I practiced and practiced until I got quite good. I tried out for a solo part in my school's choir and I got it. But the other girls were jealous and they drove me to tears over it. So I told the choir director I couldn't do it and then I disguised my singing. It just got to be habit after a while, I suppose. I don't even think about it unless I'm alone.”

“You shouldn't hide your voice,” he said, lifting her chin up with his knuckle. “I believe I would like to hear you sing more in the future.”

“Really?” she asked, slightly surprised.

He nodded. “The song you were singing seemed quite sad. What is it called?”

“'Young And Beautiful,'” she replied. “It's by Lana Del Rey. I like her music a lot, and Lorde's, too. They both have throatier voices which I can emulate well.”

“Do you feel the way she does?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

“The chorus. The singer was asking if the man who loves her now will no longer love her when she is older. Do you wonder the same thing?”

She shook her head. “No, not really. I don't know if you love me, but I think you will care for me for an awfully long time, even if I do get old and ugly.”

“I will,” he said with a nod. “I can promise you that much. And besides, you will never get ugly. I don't think that's at all possible.”

“You are too nice to me,” she said with a smile.

“I didn't used to be that way,” he said quietly. “I've been trying to change.”

“And you've done a good job of it,” she said, placing her hands on his chest. “You're a good man, Sherlock, you really are. You've been there for me through all of this and you haven't pushed and I'm so grateful for that. And you treat me really well, probably better than any of my other boyfriends. I wouldn't want to keep living with you if you didn't.”

“I'm glad you feel that way,” he said. “There are times I think back to how I've treated you and I think I was a prize idiot.”

“Oh, you were. I'm not even going to disagree about that,” she said with a chuckle. “But in the hospital, before you jumped...what you told me that day really stuck with me. I'd never really felt valued or needed before, not by anyone. I always felt like I was the odd one out, the one nobody noticed unless they needed something. But you noticed me, and you told me. Yeah, you needed me, but I was so lovesick I would have helped you even if you hadn't. The fact that you thought highly of me...that pleased me.”

“I never could have pulled it off if it hadn't been for you,” he replied quietly. “And then when I was gone you were the one who kept me anchored. Mycroft was good for keeping me updated on how everyone was doing and making sure everyone was safe. But you were the one who reminded me why I was doing it, and the one who wouldn't let it chip away at my humanity. If you hadn't I would have done many more things I would have regretted.”

“I didn't know I did all that,” she said, looking down again.

“You did, and I should tell you more often.”

She slid her arms down and hugged him tightly, resting her cheek on his chest. “You don't need to. Once is enough.”

He hugged her back. “It won't be enough for me.”

“I guess I could hear it more often,” she said in a warm tone. They stood like that for a few moments before she pulled away and looked at him. “I was just going to make breakfast. I was thinking homemade scones. Do you want some?”

“I would like that,” he said with a nod.

She leaned in and kissed him softly. When she pulled away again she gave him a warm smile. “Keep me company while I cook?”

“Of course,” he said, giving her a smile back. She let go of him completely and went more into the kitchen, and he followed. All in all, this was a surprising morning, but a good one nonetheless.


End file.
